Chapter 31
Saint
The crowd roared.
“Wild Dogs. Wild Dogs. Wild Dogs.”
For the entire arena to be chanting for the opposing team was damn cool. There was a subsequent angry roar from the diehard Gators lovers, but even some of their crowd had been swayed in our direction.
While the game had been tough, it all boiled down to the last shot. I was skating well, gliding on the ice. Owning it. I shot the puck to my right wing and Mark moved swiftly toward the goal, at the last minute passing it off to me.
My teammates were working well.
The goal was in sight.
Everything was going perfectly.
Until the right defenseman came at me from nowhere. I’d been tripped a half dozen times, but not so intentionally. I went down. Hard. Skidding across the ice.
Whistles blew. The crowd roared in anger.
Anger boiled through me and as soon as my body stopped skidding, I scrambled to my feet, almost stumbling as a jolt of pain pounded the left side of me.
The bastard Gators player grinned at me. He’d done it on purpose of course to break my momentum. I flung myself forward, caught by two of my teammates while the referee was debating punishment.
“Don’t do it, man. He’s not worth it,” Eric hissed.
“Yeah, just shake it off. Let’s just make the goal so we can get the fuck out of here,” Pete said as he glared in the defenseman’s direction.
I sucked in my breath, snarling at him. But I was prepared to walk away and would have if the asshole hadn’t shot me the middle finger.
With tremendous force, I shoved Eric and Pete out of my way and skating with a fire burning deep within in the man’s direction. Just as I was about to throw a punch, another commotion broke out.
But this time from the stands.
I glanced around me, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Then the Jumbotron highlighted someone in the stands. What the hell?
“What is she doing?” Eric asked, complete amusement in his voice.
Blinking, I stared at the face of my beautiful fiancée as she argued with the ref. How she’d gotten his attention, I might never know, but she was berating him with style. Her expression was fierce and she was waving her arms in fury.
“She’s pissed because the ref issued a minor penalty.” Pete was clearly impressed.
So was I.
I skated closer, homing in on what was being said over the screams and whistles. Maybe my extra senses were truly kicking in since she’d come into my life.
“Can you hear anything?” Eric asked.
“She’s arguing that what the defenseman did was egregious enough there should be a misconduct penalty, and the guy should be tossed from the game completely.”
“Holy crap. Is the ref allowing her to show him something on her phone?”
Carl, our captain, had skated to our group. “Isn’t that your fiancée?”
“Yep. She knew the ref couldn’t see what happened. My guess is she took a video.”
“What happened to the ones in the arena?” Pete tossed out.
“Who knows, but look at the guy and look at her face. Would ya?” I was practically beaming as I watched her berating the ref. That would either get her a luxury box for life or kicked out permanently. But it was a hell of a lot of fun to watch.
As soon as the ref turned around, the crowd quieted.
Seconds later, we were still in shock.
“She managed to get the defenseman kicked out,” Eric said, shaking his head. “That lady deserves a bottle of champagne. Now, let’s win this damn game.”
“Woot. Woot. Woot!” I threw my fist in the air as I skated around the perimeter of the ice.
I skated slowly as I made eye contact with Lily. She was on her feet, clapping with the rest of our fans, but there was a smile of satisfaction on her face. Maybe she’d been trying to prove her loyalty or simply allowing me to know she was in my corner.
None of that mattered.
For all the glory, the pats on the back, and Coach telling me I’d done a damn good job, there was one person I wanted to be near me right about now. And waiting until after we faced a throng of reporters wasn’t going to happen.
The cameras seemed to know exactly what I was doing, one side pinned on my free skate, the other on her face as I neared.
There was no mistaking the delight on either of our faces. As I came closer, she leaned over.
I flew right by her, skidding to a stop and spinning around again. My antics were caught. Another roar went up in the stadium. I skated in a circle before slowly coming to a stop right in front of her.
“What did you think?” I asked, grinning at her and enjoying the sparkle in her eyes.
“Not bad for a rookie.”
“A rookie, huh? I’ll show you what a rookie can do.” When I grabbed her around the waist, she gasped, even pummeling her small fists against me.
I laughed as I dragged her into my arms. The crowd went wild. I held her tightly, spinning her around as I continued skating around the perimeter. We were vaguely cognizant of someone tracking my grandstanding over the loudspeaker, but for the first time, I wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention.
Neither was she.
We only had eyes for each other.
“You’re crazy. You do know you are,” she muttered.
“So what? It gives you something to work with.”
“Oh, I have plenty.” I held her near, enjoying having her so close. She had her hand pressed on my chest and the cameras captured her ring.
As I’d done before, I’d fucked up with her, saying the wrong thing. I’d been able to tell it in her eyes and had kicked myself the entire time since for acting like an idiot.
She’d been cold on the plane, while still playing her part, caught off guard when a couple of people had asked for her autograph, not mine.
People had always bent over backwards to please me before this mess. She never had. Not once. She’d done her best to keep me in line, giving me shit when I needed it and allowing just enough rope to hang myself before yanking me in.
Even on the plane, quiet or not, she’d found a way with just her eyes to put me in my place when the rest of the team were acting like children.
When I’d suggested a selfie of the two of us sitting in our seats, she’d snatched the phone from me when I’d made a funny face.
Then she’d grilled me for two solid minutes in her whispered words about how I needed to portray a good image for the team, not be some jokester who thought he was all that and a bag of chips.
In the end, she’d gotten her way; the photograph with our heads together, huge smiles on our faces while she held up her hand showing off her ring was squeaky clean.
The two hundred thousand likes later had barely satisfied her. She’d wanted a million.
The girl dreamed big.
She also had a lust for life.
A passion for defending the little guy.
And a need to control the situations around her.
All in all, the girl was hot when she talked down to me, even hotter when she spoke her mind freely.
Something had caught me off guard during the middle of the game.
I’d been playing for her.
I’d wanted to win for her.
Because this boy was completely off the grid. No more man-whore. No more puck bunnies.
I’d fallen hopelessly in love with her. Now I just needed to convince her it was cool to be involved with a bad boy shifter.
Lily
There were certainly worse things that being considered the ‘it’ girl because of your association with the hottest hockey player in the league.
There wasn’t a person on this planet who hadn’t watched me on the Jumbotron both as I’d yelled at a referee as if I’d known what the hell I was talking about or when he’d carried me around the ice rink while waving to his fans.
Some had been wishing they were me.
Others had wanted to stab me with a sharp utensil because I’d captured the man’s heart after so many others had tried.
If they only knew it was all pretend.
“What are you thinking about?” Saint asked from beside me.
The city lights rolled by. I had my head resting on the soft leather, enjoying the hum of the engine.
My face was cracked from smiling, the reporters taking their sweet time asking dozens of questions.
I’d certain felt the sting of snubbing from the female reporters who’d glared at me while planning my demise.
All I wanted was a long hot bath, a glass or five of wine, and a good night’s sleep. Instead, we were on our way to some fabulous club in the heart of Tampa. Where I’d need to pretend again. I swirled the ring on my finger, thinking about how much money I was carrying around with me.
I was more than just uncomfortable keeping it on my finger, fearful I’d lose the ring without trying. I’d had a habit of doing that over the years.
The man was riding high on the win and he deserved the accolades he’d gotten. At least I’d learned that much about the game of hockey.
“What am I thinking? Saint Masters. You are a badass hockey player,” I said from beside him, and I could tell my comment shocked the hell out of him.
“Don’t forget the savage part.” He grinned, but his eyes flashed something different than just accepting a compliment.
“I’m sure you won’t allow me to forget.”
He laughed in that deep, throaty voice of his and if he kept it up, I’d lose my anger for him. I should be angry with him for carrying me around the arena after the win, but wasn’t being carried around in a rugged man’s arms every girl’s fantasy?
“No, I will not,” he said with another growl in his voice.
A few seconds ticked by. Now that we were all alone, except for the burly driver doubling as a security guard sitting in the driver’s seat two rows in front, things had gotten awkward between us again.
“You look hot tonight. Perfect for the club we’re going to.” His voice had deepened.
“Why, thank you.” I’d changed into something sexy for yet another photo op. The strange thing was I couldn’t get out of my mind that I’d asked him to shift. “Didn’t you say you needed your rest? A massage. Isn’t your leg hurting?”
“Yeah, it is, but so what? We need to celebrate. That was a big win, thanks to you getting the defenseman tossed out at the last minute. I sailed to victory.”